


In The Final Equation

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-21
Updated: 2005-10-21
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written with DayaSometimes saving the world is all that matters...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Final Equation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Faith looks around her. The world is cracking- holes to other dimensions are appearing in the fabric of reality. Fire, ice, noise, and smoke, all the cheesy associations with the end of the world. It's got it all. And the worst of it is that though they fight and fight what comes through the dimensional rips, there is no way that they are going to win. 

Against what? 

This upheaval could have been prevented before it started, but now that it's begun, everything is tumbling into destruction. She and Buffy and the other Slayers, Giles, Angel, Illyria, Willow, Xander, Oz, Lorne, Spike... even Ethan is there, all fighting shoulder to shoulder. Faith watches them all die, every one of them, fallen to an unstoppable evil. Giles and Ethan while researching how to stop this. The Slayers to battle. The vampires to the same battle. 

When only she, Willow and Illyria are left, they go to their final desperate attempt to prevent this all before it started. They need Wesley- whom they found out too late that they needed. Willow and Illyria pool their powers- they are outside, the houses around them demolished- and a portal opens back to the point of diversion: Angel and the team returning from Pylea with the instrument of Wesley's destruction... and therefore the world. 

To save Wesley, she must kill an innocent. Fred must die. She steps through, only to see Willow crushed by falling rubble. She meets Illyria's cold gaze before the portal closes. The goddess, willing to trade her current life for the future of the world. Faith hardens her resolve. This must not be. 

She steps out of the portal into the room. There is the Angel team; Wesley, Gunn, Cordelia and Fred- dispersed around the counter and office preparing for Angel's imminent departure. Before they can even move, she lifts her gun and shoots Fred dead. The girl falls to the floor and Faith just stands there, bloody from her own blood and the blood of all her comrades, her clothes ragged. Her gaze is directed inwards to a hell none of the others could imagine. Dropping the gun on the floor from suddenly nerveless fingers and the clatter ends the throbbing in her ears, leaving a terrifying silence. 

At first everyone stands in shocked silence, then it's as though time starts again. Wesley rushes to Fred's fallen body along with Cordelia, while Angel and Gunn vault over the counter and grab hold of Faith. Gunn kicking the pistol away. Pressing his fingers to Fred's throat, he meets Cordelia's gaze and shakes his head before standing again, fixing his gaze on Faith. 

Wesley's ready to berate Angel - he did this - he's the one who tried to save the Slayer. It's as he looks at her that her appearance sinks in - this isn't the Faith they left in jail. She looks haggard, tired - the energy that seemed to abound in the Slayer, even while in jail, all but gone. More astounding, she's his age. Her clothes and the blood on them and her, old and new - bespeaks a terrible battle. Wesley begins to walk forward - seeing that she's not struggling against the two who are holding her, "Faith?" 

Walking forward, Wesley seeing that she's not struggling against the two who are holding her, he calls to her again. "Faith?" The sound Cordelia makes as she moves to the phone, alerts him and he turns to her. "No, Cordelia, not until we understand what's happening here." 

"I'd say it's obvious what's happening here... Psycho Slayer got loose and..." Cordelia glares at the Englishman, challenging him. 

Arching his brow at the former cheerleader, Wesley cuts her off. His tone of voice matter of fact "Somehow got access to powerful enough magic to teleport here and shoots our new friend... And only her. Now why would she want to do that?" 

"Wolfram and Hart?" She draws herself up, knowing her suggestion is ludicrous, but willing to defend it in that irrationally Cordelia like way. 

Lorne nods as Wesley makes eye contact with him and moves towards the phone - not certain exactly what's going on, but wanting to find out. "I'm with Wesley on this one, brown eyes... Let's figure out what's going on before we make any rash decisions..." 

"She just killed Fred... It's not like she dusted a vamp or beheaded a demon - she killed a *person* - one of us..." Gunn looks at the others in disbelief - they're going to defend this crazy woman. 

"I've killed people too, Gunn..." Angel sets aside his pain over Buffy's death in the face of this newest crisis and meets the young black man's gaze, holding it until Gunn nods slightly and looks away. Then Angel looks towards Wesley - amazed that Wesley can see past his own hurts to give Faith this chance. He can smell the difference in her, the age, the weariness - he's just surprised that Wes is clear headed enough to see it too. 

Wesley comes close, but not too close - he still has nightmares at times from what she did to him. "Faith, what is going on?" 

Faith can hardly hear the voices around her except in addition to the cacophony in her head. She's still here. She hadn't been sure what would happen when she shot Fred, but somehow she hoped for oblivion. She feels darkness rising in her throat, uncontrollable. Clenching her eyes shut, Faith lets her head fall back and gives voice to that darkness- a hoarse, pained scream that seems to go on and on, her body suffused, shaking with the pain. 

Unfortunately for the demon, Lorne happens to be looking at Faith as she starts to scream - her aura clearly visible as she does. The visions start pouring over him - the future or what was the future to them - that now with any luck isn't. He can't stop it, can't look away. The horrors that they've faced, that she's lived through - he knows, he understands - he feels the pain - too much for even his demon body. His eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground in a heap. 

Acting on instinct, Angel pulls Faith away from Gunn and into his embrace. He holds her tight, trying to calm her, trying to draw her back. He rocks her against his cool body as he draws her down to a kneeling position on the floor. 

A creeping sense of deja vu running up his spine, Wesley is struck by the similarity of what is happening. He stands frozen, not certain what he should do now. 

Cordelia moves to the collapsed demon's side. "More problems, guys..." Seeing that Angel and Wesley have their hands full with the Slayer, she looks towards Gunn who nods and moves to help Cordelia with the anagogic demon. 

After taking a deep, sobbing breath, all the strength seems to go out of Faith. Her body trembles with long, controlled tremors. For long minutes she just stays in Angel's arms, accepting the haven of his arms. Then she lifts her gaze to Wesley. In her eyes is a desperate hope and a ragged pain, no longer concerned with old resentments, no longer the Faith he knew. Lacking even her namesake- no Faith, hope or charity for this one for a long time. Yet just now, there is the faintest glimmer of light. 

Whatever the cost, she has done it- Wesley will live. 

Wesley can see the hope in her eyes focused on him. He's stunned momentarily then he takes in her pain, the difference in her eyes. No matter what his subconscious is telling him, no matter how much fear it's pumping through his body - making his heart race and his stomach twist. This isn't the Faith he knew. Pushing himself past it, he follows what his heart tells him. She's alone - and whatever she did - she did for him. He doesn't understand it, but he wants to. He steels himself, ignoring his reactions and moves forward slowly, kneeling down alongside both of them, and then he hesitantly opens his arms to her. 

Flying from Angel's arms instantly, Faith throws her arms around Wesley. Something breaks in her and she starts to cry. Her body shudders against his, rocked with her sobs, and she clenches her eyes shut. It feels good to hold him, feel material proof that it'll all be different this time. The warmth of his body, the comfort he is offering soothes the rawness inside her a little. She buries her face against his chest, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. 

The shock the former Watcher is experiencing is clearly visible as he meets the vampire's equally surprised gaze. Unable to ignore her distress, Wesley gently starts rocking her against him, ignoring the disconcerting feeling of her tears wetting his shirt, and reaches up to stroke her hair. Murmuring comforting noises to her as he does. He meets Angel's gaze again apologetically, knowing the last thing the vampire needs now is more death, and glances towards Fred's cooling body. 

Angel nods sadly and moves to pick the body up, taking it somewhere where they can safely keep it until they know what they will need to do. Wesley returns his attention back to the crying woman in his arms - a woman that only externally bears any resemblance to his former Slayer. 

Eventually Faith's tears slow and stop. The occasional tremor still runs through her body, but otherwise she is still and somewhat more relaxed. She has not slept in days; and before that caught only snatches; and soon she is asleep in his arms, her mind unable to cope with more. 

It's as though he's caught in some sort of twilight zone. Nothing seems quite real. As though everything is tilted on its axis. A young woman they only just rescued from a hell dimension is dead and Faith, his former Slayer, is her murderer but instead of turning her over to the authorities, he was the one protecting her. *Comforting* her. Not only that, she has fallen asleep in his arms. He looks up as Angel comes into the room once more. 

Crouching down once more, Angel shakes his head in wonder at the sight of Faith huddled in her former Watcher's arms, sleeping. "What's the plan?" He meets Wesley's gaze, both stunned at events and somehow almost proud of how the Englishman is handling them. Cool and calm yet not detached. 

"Honestly, I have no idea - I'm making this up as I go along." Wesley sighs and looks at Angel. "I think it's best if I take Faith elsewhere." He visibly steels himself, fighting to control the shakes that want to start - the cold sweat that threatens. "Gunn and Cordelia won't be put off for long if they're constantly confronted by her and we need to know why this happened... There's more to it than just one of Faith's psychotic rages. She could have shot me, Cordelia... Even you for all the good it would have done. That would make sense at least. Instead she shot a woman she doesn't even know." 

Wesley pauses and tilts his body so Angel can see her face. "She's *my* age, Angel... A slayer - especially one with Faith's predilections lasting this long... It's unheard of." He pauses, frowning as he sees the pain flit across the vampire's face - relating her survival to the other Slayer who has so recently passed on. 

"I know..."Angel steels himself against the part of him that rails at the unfairness of it all and looks at the former Watcher. "So where are you taking her?" He sees the fear come creeping into the former Watcher's eyes. "Wes... You saw how she reacted to you. If anyone is going to be able to find out what's going on - it has to be you." 

Wesley swallows then inclines his head in acknowledgement of the truth of Angel's words. "My ... apartment I suppose. It seems the best solution." He stands and with Angel's help, shifts Faith into his arms. Wesley carries her out of the hotel and gets Faith settled in his vehicle then drives towards his place - not letting himself think about whom it is he's bringing to his home. When he arrives he carefully lifts her and carries her inside, getting her settled on the bed. A cursory search of her pockets doesn't generate anything that would give him any clues, sighing with frustration; he leaves her to sleep and moves into the living room to read until she wakes up. 

Faith sleeps for hours, her body taking the opportunity to grab as much rest as she can. The safety of the place and her fatigue override the caution that has taken over her life. Eventually she wakes- it is late afternoon and the sun is golden as it streams in. She hasn't seen the sun in a long while. She opens her eyes and watches it as a sunbeam falls across her fingers. She sits up, runs a hand through her hair then stands. She wavers, her body protesting the lack of food and moisture, then steadies herself and pads carefully through to where she knows Wesley is. She stops in the doorway, watches him for a moment where he sits. 

Somehow sensing that she's behind him, Wesley feels himself freeze, his heart crashing in his chest. He feels like prey sitting in his own living room. Refusing to be held captive by his own emotions he stands and turns towards her. "How are you feeling?" It's stunning in a way - as he looks at her - to see her his own age. An equal. "I suspect you're hungry..." He occupies himself with the mundane for the moment. "I." Opening the fridge, he grimaces at the contents - most of which have gone bad. The only thing he has to offer - a bottle of water. He pulls it out and offers it to her. "I could order us some Chinese..." He avoids thinking about Pylea for the moment and what has happened since. 

"Anything." Faith takes the bottle from him and nods. "Thanks." She drinks about half of it and it eases the pounding in her head then caps the bottle. She watches him for a long moment. "I'm not going to hurt you." Shaking her head at the bitter irony. "Not when I'm here to save you." 

His head swivels and his eyes widen. "To save me..." His brow furrows in concentration, as he puts on a kettle while absorbing that fact. "To save me ..." He pauses struggling to make the connection, "... from Fred? I don't understand." 

"Fred wasn't meant to be here. You weren't meant to bring Fred back from Pylea. The vision Cordelia got wasn't from the Powers, it was from somethin' else. We're still." Faith bites her lip - using the physical pain to blot out the emotional. "We still weren't sure where it came from. But she wasn't meant to be here." She leans against the counter, weighed down by the memories. Past tense. She forgot to use the past tense. 

Wesley looks at her searchingly; he can see the strain in her face. He moves so that he is across from her, and then places his hand close to one of hers. "What happened Faith? ... I assume I'm ..." He shifts uncomfortably at the thought of his own death. "... dead in your timeline - but why risk coming back." Tipping her head up, so he can look into her eyes, he continues. "Why am I worth the life of an innocent? How does Fred being here cause my death... I need to understand." 

"She was your destruction..." Faith says her eyes faraway. She refocuses on him and then sits down with him on the couch. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she takes a deep breath. "You fell in love with her, and then it became obsession. She didn't want you. Eventually..." Faith sighs. "Eventually she decided she *did* want you and you had her for maybe a week... And then she died, became the shell of an Old One, a god. Her soul was destroyed. And it damn near destroyed you too... you died inside the day she did. It was only a matter of time before you got taken down." The rogue Slayer closes her eyes, rubs her forehead. "We needed you. You were supposed to be there." Her voice cracks and her mouth contorts with the effort of trying to push away the pain again. 

Wesley isn't quite sure what to say. How to feel. On one hand, Faith has saved him. From himself. From love perhaps. Yet, to know - he would have fallen in love with Fred - only to be denied - from the way Faith speaks he assumes it to be for a long while. He's lost in her words until the last few draw him out of the trance that he's in - the tone, the pain calling him back from the vague loss he's feeling. He closes the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. "It's all right, Faith. I will be there..." He assumes its some sort of apocalypse she's speaking of - though how he could be so key to stopping such a thing - he doesn't understand. "You saved me." The former Watcher pauses as he realizes something else as well. "You saved Fred as well." He looks down into his Slayer's eyes. "Yes, you killed her body - but you saved her soul from the destruction you told me about." He pushes her hair away from Faith's face. "You saved her from a fate far worse than death, Faith." 

"I killed her..." Faith shakes her head. "And it's just one more human life." She rests her head against his shoulder. She changes the subject from the atrocities she's faced. Not wanting to relive those memories. Crazed humans having to be put down like dogs. Frightened, maimed people, needing to be put down. The dead, piled high out on the streets, bloody, decaying, fodder for demons. She shakes her head violently. "I didn't think I needed a Watcher... I didn't think it meant that much. I didn't think it meant more than just you were assigned to me. But it did..." She rubs the area just above her heart. "Buffy and Giles were stronger together than they were alone. They were so close... I needed you. I needed you." She shakes her head again, covers her eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't. You don't even know." She swipes at a stray tear with her trembling hand. 

Wesley runs his hand over her cheek, brushing away the tears gently. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Faith." He pauses as he searches for the right words. Still not quite believing the situation he's found himself in. "You did very well... You obviously overcame... what happened before." After a moment his hand moves up and he begins to stroke her hair comfortingly. "You did what needed to be done." He stops long enough to tilt her face up to look at him. "I'm ..." Wesley is surprised to find he means this - truly means it - that he's not just saying it to make her feel better. "... I'm proud of you, Faith." He swallows as he considers his next words. "And I ..." Wesley takes a deep breath, digging deep inside himself for the will to do this, and then he forges on. "... Forgive you, for what happened before." 

Faith clasps his hand, unable to speak for a moment. "I couldn't even tell you I was sorry for what I did," She says when she has her voice back. "And I am. I'm sorry." Her thumb runs against his hand. 

Something in him lightens to hear her apologize - her words simple - but the sincerity painfully clear. He grips her hand, holding it tightly. "This time - you'll have your Watcher with you..." He offers gently - feeling the connection between them now. It's fragile, but there. "You can make certain nothing happens to me between now and then..." 

Faith lets out a breath. Her heart is still heavy with all the pain she's witnessed. She squeezes his hand, her head resting on his shoulder. "If I can't stay... If I have to go... Find the other me. We'd have to anyway, but... she'd take care of you." She rubs her cheek against his shoulder, keeping close for the contact. 

A part of him struggles against that. To him already the Faith locked in the prison and the one here in his arms are two separate people. Wesley shakes his head. "Why would you go?" He pauses. "You've changed the timeline - you're still here." Forcing himself not to give into the petulant 'I don't want you to go' that wants to escape. The Faith in jail hates him, terrifies him, she's never gone through - will never go through; Thanks to her older self; what makes this Faith. What makes her want him as a Watcher. If the world was in the balance - yes, that Faith might grudgingly protect him, but that's all. 

"This is her world, not mine." She closes her eyes. "My world lies in ruins on the other side of a portal that no longer exists. My world is bloody, and dark, and ugly, and hard. Everyone I ever cared about is dead. Angel, Spike, Buffy, Giles, Willow, Xander, Ethan, Oz, Lorne, you... and more. All dead. All except me, and I'm just a ghost. Burnt out, and no way to stop the bleeding." She noses his shoulder lightly, lets out a long breath. "I've seen things that make me wish I was blind. Things that made it so I couldn't eat or sleep for days." Her voice lowers until it's little more than a whisper. "I've seen hell on earth." 

Wesley presses his face into her hair, wanting . needing to give her something to hang onto here. "This could be your world too..." He takes a breath - not knowing why this is so important - why he needs to do this. Just accepting that he does. "You just have to let it ... let me help." He breathes in her scent. "You're real - I can hold you, touch you... And here... Everyone is alive. You're alive." 

Faith slips an arm around him and holds him close against her. The thought of it is tantalizing- the thought of taking her place here, where all her friends are alive, where she can live her life... "I'm hungry," she says after a minute pushing the thought aside. 

Wesley nods and leaves her embrace reluctantly, turning towards the phone. "I'll order Chinese..." He picks up the phone and dials the number. "Anything specific you would like?" 

"Sweet and sour prawns over egg fried rice," She says after a moment of contemplation. It's been a while for her since she had any such thing. She leans back in the seat and rests her head. 

Wesley calls his favorite restaurant - one of the better ones in the city and orders that and a variety of other dishes - knowing she must be hungry - and hasn't had anything nice for a while. After a moment's thought he asks them if they could pick up a bottle of wine to go with it - specifying the label and the year - one of his favorites. When he sets the phone down, he looks towards her once more - taking in her appearance. "It will be here in about half an hour..." He pauses considering her comfort. "Why don't you go take a shower... I'll find you something clean to wear." 

Nodding, Faith stands and stretches out her aching muscles. She moves through to the bathroom. She doesn't lock the door, leaves the door ajar- something she's learned to do in case she needs to get out quick. When she had the luxury of a shower, that is. She washes her hair and scrubs the blood and dirt off her body, loses herself for a time in the heat and pressure of the water. 

A fresh towel and some clothes are in order he decides as he moves towards his bedroom after giving her enough time to get settled in the bathroom. Wesley goes to his linen closet, pulling out a fresh towel and leaving it for her. Next, his closet where after a bit of a search he pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of his sweats that he thinks will serve and leaves them on his bed. He notes that he'll need to change the sheets, he can see a bit of the blood from her clothing that transferred there while she slept. Closing his eyes, he tries to imagine the horrors she faced and knows that he can't. He comes out to stand by the bathroom door - listening to the water, guiltily seeing her form outlined in the frosted glass of his shower stall for a moment. He shakes himself and moves back into the living room - still contemplating how different she is from how she was. 

She washes her bra and underwear and then brings them out with her when she steps out of the shower. Hanging them up to dry before she dries herself off. Faith gives her hair a quick rub, and moves through into his room where she knows he has left clothing. She slips it on and finishes drying her hair then moves back into the living room and settles on the couch next to him. "Feels good," she says as she stretches relaxing once more - a luxury she's no longer used to. 

"I'm glad." Wesley smiles at her as he speaks - once again marveling that his *is* glad to be able to provide rest and respite to this version of the woman who once tortured him. "Food should be here soon... If you like we could watch TV." He looks slightly embarrassed and nods towards his entertainment center. "Or there is my Playstation." Pausing, he adds. "Of course we could just sit and relax until it comes..." 

Faith shrugs, picks up the remote control and switches the television on. She settles against him after a moment, needing contact. 

Wesley slides his arm around her shoulders. Willing to provide the contact she needs - the fear that he felt in her presence having faded to nothing. In his mind now, she isn't the same as the woman he remembers torturing him. Besides that she apologized and he's forgiven her. They stay like that; he's not really watching it - more interested in the woman nestled against him than anything else. 

Faith isn't paying too much attention to the television either. Just absorbing the feeling of not being terrified, of not needing to kill something, defend someone. Of having someone hold her. Their food arrives and she digs in. They watch TV and drink their wine and ignore the TV and talk and get distracted. She finds a kind of pleasure here, one she never thought she'd ever experience again. When the bottle is empty and they have eaten enough, she finds herself getting sleepy again. 

Smiling as he sees her start to nod off, he strokes her hair idly and says, "I'll go change the sheets on it then you can have the bed. You need to recharge" He gets up and moves to the bedroom, stripping the dirty linens from the bed, and putting new ones on. In his typical manner, he puts the old ones in the hamper, then picks up her clothing and puts it in a garbage bag - though he doesn't get rid of it yet - merely bringing it to the kitchen and storing it somewhere safe, before he returns to her. "The beds ready for you now." 

"Will you..." She takes a deep breath. "Would you hold me tonight?" She meets his gaze, a kind of longing in her eyes. 

Wesley stands silently for a moment - shocked by the request. Then he nods not looking away from her. How could he refuse, even if he wanted to, knowing what she has done for him. "Of course..." He reaches out and takes her hand, leading her back to the bedroom. He goes to his dresser and picks out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt to wear, then retreats to the bathroom to change. 

Faith watches him go, then takes off the sweats, folds them and places them on his chair. She slips under the covers and lays her head on the pillow, waiting for him. 

When he returns the sight that greets him is her beneath the covers of his bed - a sight that stirs something in him that he doesn't look too closely at - now is not the time. He slides beneath the opposite side, and moves towards her - settling himself before he opens his arms to her, pulling her into his embrace. Whether by design or by chance, his body between hers and the door. He doesn't say anything, just holds her in his strong arms, stroking her hair comfortingly. 

There is silence for a long time before her voice finally breaks it. "Thank you," she says at last. She relaxes in his arms, actually feeling safe with him. Faith smiles, the first smile in a long time. Peace. 

"You're welcome, Faith." Wesley says, feeling contentment he hadn't thought possible. "Sleep..." he offers softly, knowing her previous circumstances would have made such difficult without knowing someone was on guard. "I'll keep watch." 

"It's okay... you can sleep too." She touches his hand lightly. "It's safe here." Faith doesn't go straight to sleep- rather she talks to him softly, telling him what she thinks he needs to know about the upcoming struggle he is so necessary to, finishing with, "You'll need the Arma Prophecies. June twentieth on the Cleveland Hellmouth..." She covers his hand with her own. "That's where it all starts." Feeling the exhaustion once again she closes her eyes, snuggles closer to him. 

Wesley nods and squeezes her hand reassuringly. "We'll be ready for it this time... I promise. It won't happen again." He presses his cheek to her hair, listening to all the quiet sounds her body makes. "Not with both of us there to stop it." He closes his eyes, just relishing the feeling of holding her. Of being a Watcher again - a Watcher with a Slayer that wants him. 

"You'll have to find me," she says, half-asleep, as if dreaming already. "Come and find me." She is silent for so long that it seems she has fallen asleep. "We were born for this," she murmurs finally. And then she is asleep. 

Stroking her hair, Wesley stays awake as long as he can for a reason he can't pinpoint. Finally he looses his battle against sleep, his eyes drifting shut, still holding her securely in his arms. 

Faith sleeps safely, deeply- her mind cleansing it slowly of the violations it had suffered. She smiles in her sleep and moves close to him. Finally, a ray of happiness touches her soul and a lock releases on her. Her breathing gradually slows and then stops, her heart taking its last beats. Her expression is peaceful, reflecting that final ray of happiness that *he* gave her. Come morning, she is still securely wrapped in his arms, her body still warm from the contact of his. But she is gone. 

When Wesley wakes there is the inescapable knowledge deep inside that she is gone - he knows - not so much from the lack of breathing or heartbeat - but from the hollowness within himself. He raises himself up, to look down at her peaceful face - the look of happiness there. He traces her face softly with his fingertips, memorizing her features before his head bows. A pain of loss that he couldn't imagine before he knows now. Slowly he forces himself from the bed, moving to the shower, wanting rid of the scent of her that clings to his skin. He scrubs, until he thinks he's finally rid of it - then does it again. She saved him, and he'll save the world and eventually he'll even deal with *his* Slayer - the one that could care less about him - because she wanted him to. But not today. Today he feels every second of his age as if each were a century long, he aches and everything seems darker. 

Dressing himself, he goes out to the living room and finds the appropriate magic book. He makes his way into the bedroom, and bends down, unable to stop himself from pressing a kiss against her cool lips. He rights himself again - finding the spell he needs and casting it. Watching as the light of his magic swirls around her, her body slowly becoming one with it - swirling light that fades and is no more. After that he moves into the kitchen, getting the bag where he put her clothes and gathers everything - the sheets (both sets), his comforter, the remnants of their dinner, even the t-shirt and boxers he wore to sleep in. 

He carries it down to the trash, then with a little magic powered by his grief, sets the entire contents a blaze, before he reaches out and extinguishes it again. He knows his grief is selfish - she deserved to be free of the horrors she'd lived - but the vague sense of loss that he felt about Fred is nothing compared to this. He drives back to the office, not acknowledging the others questioning looks as he walks in, no sign of pain or grief in his bearing or his demeanor. 

Typically it's Cordelia who approaches him first with her hands on her hips, ready to berate him as normal. "I can't believe you, Wesley how could you climb aboard the defend the psycho slayer train ... She's not even with you is she ... You let her loose after what she did to Fred..." 

"English, man, I gotta say I'm with Cordy on this one... She killed Fred..." Gunn falls in behind Cordelia and adds his voice to hers. 

Wesley looks at them impassively. "Yes, she killed Fred - because Fred being here would have brought about the end of the world..." He doesn't enlighten them on the how or why as he settles down behind his desk as if everything is normal. 

"And you believed her?" Cordelia stares at him in frank disbelief - questioning his sanity by her expression and he can't help but wonder if she's right. "How the hell was FRED going to bring about the end of the world... From 'equation'ing it to death?" 

Lorne comes down the stairs with an icepack just in time to see the inquisition the Englishman is suffering through. "Believe him brown eyes... She did - admittedly she didn't do it on purpose - she didn't even know what she was doing when she did it. But she did..." He looks at Wesley supportively. "So where is the firecracker?" 

Wesley looks up at him with a calm expression that gives away nothing of what he is feeling inside as years of practice work on repressing the feelings tearing through him at this moment. "Faith passed away last night... I took care of the body... It's likely for the best." 

Angel watches the Englishman closely as everyone else falls into a stunned silence - his own grief making him much more aware of it in the others even though Wesley is a master at hiding his feelings the vampire knows. Cordelia and Gunn pull back - they still have nothing nice to say but they aren't unfeeling enough to say something unkind in the face of her death. Lorne goes to open his mouth, then realizing nothing he can say will do anything to help the other man, he claps Wesley on the shoulder and makes his way back upstairs to catch a few more winks. Leaving only the vampire and the former watcher alone in the room. 

"You okay, Wesley?" 

"In light of everything that has happened recently I should think that I should be the one asking you that," Wesley arches an eyebrow at the vampire, "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Right..." Angel stays standing silently for a few more minutes, waiting to see if the former Watcher will change his mind, then turns and leaves the room. 

Alone at last, Wesley pulls the glasses from his face for a few moments, leaning his head against his wrist, then puts them back on resolutely and picks up the phone - calling his contacts to track down a copy of Arma Prophecies.


End file.
